


carry on with your fast paced motions

by santanico



Category: McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF, Polygon (YouTube) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, M/M, Scratching, Sensitivity, Voice Kink, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: The movement from Casual Sex to I Only Wanna Have Sex With You, Also I Genuinely Like You, Did You Not Know That? is so easy and fluid that Pat almost doesn’t believe it’s really happening.





	carry on with your fast paced motions

**Author's Note:**

> \- [this prompt](https://kevinspaceyvoice.tumblr.com/post/163100056426/hi-i-just-want-yall-to-know-i-love-love-love) got extremely out of hand. it also got extra out of hand......anyway, here ya go, anon!  
> \- i've never played splatoon in my life  
> \- USE CONDOMS AND OTHER BARRIERS DURING SEX!!!

The first time Pat notices is an accident.

They’re in the hot tub, talking about zombies, talking about _something_ and Griffin says something, and Pat starts to laugh, and it turns into wheezing, and he turns his body away from Griffin’s because he can’t look him in the face. Instinct has him grabbing Nick’s arm as he keels over, squeezing Nick’s bicep, and it isn’t until Pat’s fingers are scratching down Nick’s arm, back into the water, that he notices how Nick has frozen in place.

But it’s only a split second, something that might be caught on camera, or to anyone else’s eyes, as Nick being surprised. Pat swears he sees Nick blink and shiver, but he’s had enough to drink that he could be imagining things, so he doesn’t take it much to heart until the next day, when they’re recording the final E3 video.

Simone’s more convincing than he is, wailing about how they’ve lost their co-worker. Nick makes it seem so natural and Pat feigns a sigh of relief, picks up a hand and runs it through Nick’s hair. Nick stiffens - and like before, to anyone else, it could be a natural reaction. Pat being too familiar, Nick being nervous about Pat fucking up his hair.

But Pat doesn’t think he’s crazy. There’s something else lingering in the way Nick looks at him, after that touch, fingers scraping along Nick’s scalp.

Pat puts his best foot forward, intending to find out.

-

The problem is, Pat’s forgetful. And the next time they see each other in person is a month after E3, and Nick’s in New York, and Pat’s overwhelmed by work, and what happens is maybe a culmination of teasing and flirting and a year together. Pat doesn’t mean for the kiss to get serious, and maybe neither does Nick, but by the time it does, it’s completely right.

They end up back at Nick’s hotel, because it’s closer, and Nick crawls on top of Pat and grinds down on his lap and they rut against each other, half-clothed, and Pat remembers being nineteen and hooking up with a guy in his van, a coworker who had a couple years of him and didn’t go to the same school, and how embarrassingly fast he came, and how the guy had licked Pat’s come off his hand and chuckled.

But this is Nick, and everything snaps back into place as he looks at Nick, in boxers and a t-shirt, flushed hot to the neck, rocking his hips down on Pat’s clothed erection.

“Holy shit,” Pat says out loud, hands still gripping hard on Nick’s hips.

Nick laughs. “Yeah?”

“You’re the hottest person in the world,” Pat says, and Nick ducks his head and giggles.

-

The movement from Casual Sex to I Only Wanna Have Sex With You, Also I Genuinely Like You, Did You Not Know That? is so easy and fluid that Pat almost doesn’t believe it’s really happening. Nick confesses his admiration with a cautious smile, and Pat’s head spins and he says something akin to, “No way you thought I was hot, I think _you’re_ hot,” and he really does feel like he’s nineteen, twenty-one, some age where none of that mattered anymore.

Nick’s a hurried kisser, pins Pat down, sucks his dick, smiles and fidgets a little every time Pat touches him.

Pat remembers, for some reason, as he’s chasing his orgasm, Nick’s mouth around him. He doesn’t think, just knots his fingers in Nick’s hair, pulls gently. The sound Nick makes rips from his throat, reverberates in Pat’s cock and then through his entire body, to the very tips of his fingers. Pat pulls harder and Nick sinks deeper and Pat has enough time to gently ease Nick’s head back and groan out Nick’s name before he’s pulsing, coming in Nick’s mouth. Nick’s still humming and sighing and afterwards, he presses his forehead to Pat’s hip, kisses his soft cock, and looks up at Pat with wide eyes.

-

Pat could say it’s hard. He tells Allegra as much, as she’s squeezing his arm.

“Long distance. But with Nick Robinson,” she says, tilting her head back. “That must be - well, that must be a lot.”

Pat shrugs. He could talk about the way that after they do Wolfenstein videos, they stay on Google hangouts for two hours, just talk about bullshit, until one of them inevitably has to get back to real work. He could tell Allegra things she doesn’t wanna hear, about the dirty texts Nick sends him at three in the morning, Pacific Time, just as Pat’s getting up to go to the gym. He could tell Allegra about Nick’s ticks, about the way Nick likes to be touched, about how sometimes, when they’re together, they just kiss until they’re breathless.

He doesn’t.

“Yeah, sometimes it sucks. But it’s worth it,” he says.

Allegra grins.

-

Pat decides that it’s only awkward because it’s the first time they’ve had an actual visit, as opposed to a work related collision.

Awkward maybe isn’t the word. But Nick’s clearly nervous, moving around his apartment too fast, picking things up and moving them onto shelves when they don’t need to be moved.

“Hey, Nick?” Pat says, flopping down on the couch. “You’re fine.”

“I don’t want - you don’t think I’m a slob, do you?”

Pat cocks his head, peers at Nick, trying to determine if he’s serious or not. Nick’s twitching, picking at the skin on his right forefinger, and then he cards his hands through his hair three times in a row.

“I don’t think that,” Pat says. “Sit down.”

Nick’s shoulders sag and he drops onto the edge of the couch, staring at the TV. They’re both silent for a moment.

“Wanna play some Splatoon?” Pat says.

Nick glances at him. “Sure.”

They boot up the Switch and Nick puts the cartridge in. They end up switching off, Nick playing and then Pat playing, and then back again. Nick’s much better, but he doesn’t complain when Pat seems incapable of performing any spectacular feets, or that he’s bringing Nick’s ranking down.

As Nick’s playing, completely absorbed in the game, Pat reaches over and touches his knuckles to Nick’s bare arm. Nick shivers, glances at Pat, and hesitates for a second before looking back at the TV. Pat keeps stroking the side of his arm, gentle and possibly ticklish swipes of his fingers just barely grazing Nick’s skin. Nick pauses the game and drops the joysticks on his lap, ducking his head.

“Nick?”

Nick sighs. “You don’t get it,” he says, sounding more sympathetic than annoyed. He turns his body to look at Pat, frowns. Pat stops touching him. “Put your fingers in my hair.”

Pat doesn’t hesitate, picking up his hand and scratching against Nick’s scalp. Nick sighs and starts to slump, and then he’s biting his lip, humming.

“It feels good,” Pat says.

Nick laughs. “What’s the best feeling in the world?”

“Orgasm. Or love. Both at the same time?”

Nick smiles. “It’s better than that. Better than coming.”

Pat stills his fingers. “Really?”

“Orgasm is great but then it’s over.” Nick tips his head into Pat’s hand, nudges. Pat goes back to scratching and Nick lets out a low, long breath.

“Turn off the Switch,” Pat says, pulling his hand back. Nick bites his lip and looks at Pat for a second, then nods. He clicks the game and the system off and pulls his legs up onto the couch, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Is it just...your hair?”

Nick shrugs. “No. It’s - everything, really.” He hesitates. “I wear sweatshirts and jackets and jeans a lot because it can be overwhelming. Not - you know, I don’t think about it that often. And it really only counts when someone else is touching me, the - how good it feels. Porter used to indulge me and just…” Here, Nick trails off, looking sheepish. “He would just scratch my back? Real lightly? When we were chilling at home, or whatever. God. Is it weird? I feel weird.”

Pat takes a moment to seriously consider. “I don’t think it’s weird. And it doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

Nick sighs. “It’s not, for the most part. Except.” Nick screws his eyes shut, buries his face in his hands. Pat waits; it’s easy to wait when it’s Nick he’s being patient for. Nick always makes it worth it.

“Except?” Pat says, hoping his voice is just a gentle urging onward for Nick.

Nick looks at him. “It’s not sexual,” he says, and Pat blinks. “I mean, usually, it’s not - with most people, it’s not. Like, being hypersensitive, that’s not always great when you’re fucking. I mean, it sounds great, right? But like - if someone tickles you, and you’re not into that, it’s the worst feeling in the world. And then there’s just - memories, and anxieties, and stuff. Which makes it - I mean, it’s confusing. So it’s not usually sexual.”

“Okay,” Pat says, nodding. If this is Nick setting up boundaries, then Pat can listen. He’s confused, sure, but Nick’s trying, and Nick’s opening up to him, and he’s going to pay attention.

“Except,” Nick says, hesitant. “Sometimes, when your hand is in my hair, or you…” He ducks his head again. “Sometimes you just kinda - when you scratch me when we’re - or touch my scalp or…”

Pat resists the urge to fill in the blanks but Nick goes quiet, staring at the wall.

“It’s good,” Pat says. “Okay.”

Nick peeks back at him. “It’s more intense than anything,” Nick says, quiet, almost under his breath.

Pat shifts a little, sitting up straighter.

“Can I touch you?” he says.

Nick licks his lips. Nervous tick. Pat wants to sink all the nervous ticks out of Nick’s head, turn his brain off. It must be wild in there.

“Sure,” Nick says.

Pat scoots towards Nick on the couch, gently nudges Nick’s legs apart until Nick drops them both back on the floor. Pat rests a hand on Nick’s thigh, squeezes through his pants. Nick twitches, but doesn’t move away. Pat looks up, forces eye contact, and Nick blinks at him. His face says _what are you thinking? What do you think of me_ but he doesn’t say anything out loud, waiting for Pat to make the first move.

Pat touches Nick’s cheek. Nick leans in, smiles, and Pat scratches his fingers lightly along Nick’s scalp, until he reaches the top of his skull. He trails down the base. Nick’s hair is soft, pleasant and ticklish on Pat’s fingers. He drags them to Nick’s neck, presses on the nape, the top of his spine. Underneath him, Nick tenses, then relaxes, then tenses again, his breath coming out harder with every second.

“I wanna try something,” Pat says. He knows his voice is too loud, his suggestion too sudden. Nick startles and stares at him, open-mouthed, then swallows and nods.

Pat slumps onto the floor, puts a hand on either of Nick’s knees and pushes them apart.

“Oh,” Nick says.

Pat says, “Don’t think,” and he means it to be about where they are, in Nick’s living room in the late afternoon, but they’re on the second floor and there’s only one window, and Pat thinks these cushions probably need to be washed anyway.

“Oh, okay,” Nick says.

Pat moves slow, unbuttoning Nick’s jeans and taking his time with the zipper before he shucks them down Nick’s thighs.

Nick’s cock is visible through his boxers, line of it pressed against the snug fabric. Pat’s mouth starts to water, but he doesn’t immediately dive in, pulling Nick’s pants down to his ankles and planting his hands on Nick’s thighs. Nick drops his hands on the couch, clenches his fists against the cushions.

“Relax,” Pat says, pressing his thumbs hard into Nick’s skin. The hair on his thighs is soft, dark and thicker than the hair on the rest of his body, and with a decisive movement, Pat curls his fingers and drags his nails down the tops of Nick’s thighs.

Nick groans, soft and aching from his chest, tipping his head back.

“How’s that?” Pat says, though he doesn’t expect an answer. Nick’s raised a fist to his mouth, and he’s pressing his teeth to his knuckles. Pat leans forward, kisses Nick’s cock through the fabric.

“Pat,” Nick breathes.

“Nick,” Pat says, breathing along the line of dick in front of him. Nick’s hardening under his touch, and seeing it happen jolts in Pat’s chest. He presses up against the couch, as close as he can possibly get, and tugs Nick’s underwear down. Nick squirms, picks up his hips to assist, and Pat tries to hide his smile behind his hair.

“You’re - Pat,” Nick says, his voice quivering.

Pat refocuses, taking hold of Nick’s cock in one hand and straightening his back. He presses his mouth to the head, sucks for a short few seconds. He looks up at Nick as he does it, pushes the hair from his face. He’s still got his glasses on - a dumbass move, he’s already realizing - but at least Nick is clear. Nick’s shoulders are tense and he’s biting his knuckles again, the other hand fisted at his side. When he glances down, maybe just to confirm that Pat’s really there, they make brief eye contact, and Nick lets out a low, choked noise.

Pat dips down, spurred on by Nick’s sounds. That’s something they haven’t really talked about, mostly out of fear of embarrassing Nick and making him shut down. Pat mouths along the shaft, pressing soft and wet kisses all over until he reaches Nick’s balls.

“Mean,” Nick says, barely a breath, and Pat grins, scraping his nails along the inside of Nick’s right thigh.

“Pat,” Nick hisses, his body jerking. Pat presses Nick into the couch with his other hand. He tries not to think too hard about how his knees are already starting to hurt. There’s a part of him that wants to bring Nick to the edge and back again, but he can also already tell that there’s a maddening frustration forming in Nick, whose entire body is starting to fidget.

Pat teases Nick’s balls in his mouth in turn, stroking Nick’s cock with his left hand. Nick moans again, the sound almost pulled from him, and Pat can’t help himself anymore. He takes Nick’s cock in his mouth, lets himself feel the difference in every inch, stretching his lips and his jaw, making him work.

Nick’s whining now, his voice almost a whimper - pathetic and small, overwhelmed, maybe. Pat closes his eyes, tries not to be annoyed about his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, or his hair tickling his cheeks. He focuses again, the heavy taste in his mouth, pre-come leaking on the back of his tongue, his throat trying to tighten against the intrusion.

“God, Pat,” Nick says, and maybe that’s all he can manage because he goes utterly quiet and still, then jerks his hips and whines again. Pat blinks hard, swallows around the cock in his mouth, starts rubbing his tongue along the shaft and then leans back to focus on the head. 

Nick’s gasping now, but he’s muffled it with a hand over his mouth, and Pat’s cock twitches as the urge to make Nick wail and shout and forget this self-control starts to overwhelm him. Now, Pat just wants Nick to come, wants to taste it and swallow and see Nick’s look of dazed amazement.

With Nick’s dick urging its way to the very back of Pat’s throat, Pat takes both hands and positions them under Nick’s hipbones, at the very thin skin of Nick’s inner thighs. He hollows his cheeks, sucks hard, in the same moment that he drags his nails down Nick’s skin, harder than before.

And Nick _does_ wail this time, an almost inhuman noise, his hand still over his mouth. He drops it, clenches his fingers into the shoulder of Pat’s t-shirt, tries to drag him forward, Pat’s name shaking from his lips.

Pat takes as much as he can, until his eyes are watering and all the soreness in his body is telling him to get up, to move again. But it’s worth it, because Nick’s making these tiny, ragged noises, spilling out nonsense, and then he’s saying, “Fuck, Pat, I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t - ”

And Pat doesn’t, he just sucks until Nick’s cock throbs on his tongue, and Pat’s almost dazed by the force of it.

Pat pulls off, swallows twice, breathes hard before looking up at Nick.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Nick says.

“What?” Pat says, his voice hoarse.

“I - you - in your mouth, I should have - heads up?”

Pat shakes his head. “I wanted you to,” he says, finds he means it. “Wow. You really fucked up my throat.”

Nick groans, throws his arms over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, and Pat leans forward again, kisses his hip.

“Take off your clothes,” Pat says. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Get in bed. I’m gonna get some water and take a piss.”

Nick stares at Pat as he stands up, brushes his hands off on his jeans, and wipes his mouth.

“You don’t want me to…” Nick sort of pushes off the couch, leans forward like he’s reaching for Pat’s pants, and Pat shakes his head.

“I wanna fuck you,” he says, and Nick looks so silly with his pants and underwear around his ankles, hiding his face in his hands like it’s the first time they’ve seen each other like this. “Here,” Pat says, sits on the couch again. His legs are tingling and his knees hurt but he starts to tug at the hem of Nick’s shirt.

Nick lifts his arms. His face is flushed and his eyes are shiny, and Pat thinks he’s never looked better than this. 

Once the shirt is off, Nick kicks his way out of his socks, jeans, underwear. Pat resists the urge to push him against the couch and fuck him then and there - they’d have to move anyway, lube is in the bedroom - and stands up, heading into the kitchen.

Pat pours himself a short glass of water and listens for Nick walking to the bedroom. A door opens, then shuts, and Pat sags back against the counter. He’s so hard that it almost hurts, and no matter how he tries to shift and settle himself, there’s no relief.

He downs the water, pees - it helps a little, but it’s weird all the same - and takes a minute to thoroughly wash his hands. He looks at his face. His glasses have left a slight indent on his cheeks and his nose. He takes them off, stares at his blurry reflection, wets his hands again and splashes the cold water on his skin. When his heart rate has settled, just enough to feel reasonable again, Pat heads into the bedroom.

“Hey,” Pat says, frowning.

“Sorry,” Nick says, dropping his phone back on the bedside table. “I forgot I left my phone in here.”

“Uh huh,” Pat says. But Nick looks genuinely embarrassed, flustered even. He’s spread out on his bed, one leg popped and the other flat, leaning on his pillows. His soft cock rests against his stomach. Pat’s pulse quickens again.

“Sorry,” Nick repeats, softly.

“You good?” Pat says.

Nick swallows, pushes himself further up the bed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you nervous?”

Nick shrugs. “A little?”

The words clog up in Pat’s throat. Nick’s thighs have thin, red marks lining them. Pat licks his lips. His stomach curls and he shivers, just a tiny bit. He gets on the bed, knees first, and settles between Nick’s legs before pulling him into a kiss.

Nick sighs, kisses back, soft and languid. Pat takes his time - he can be patient, he reminds himself, so patient and steady. He presses his tongue against Nick’s lips, and Nick opens, moans quietly, curls his tongue against Pat’s.

Pat presses in closer, wonders why he’s still fully clothed just as Nick starts to fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

“It’s okay,” Pat says, breaking the kiss. “We can go slow.”

Nick looks uncertain, though Pat’s not sure why. “You sure?”

Pat tilts his head. “Yeah,” he says, cards his fingers through Nick’s hair. Nick seems at a loss, blinking and then letting his eyes fall shut, breathing in deep and quiet.

“I do…” Nick speaks slowly, sighs. “I do, want you to. I’m sorry. I’m letting my head get to me.”

“Hey,” Pat says. He scratches the back of Nick’s neck, just gentle scrapes. Nick presses his teeth into his lip. “I don’t wanna make you nervous,” he says. “Look at me, hey.”

Nick opens his eyes and blinks at Pat, touches his lips together and purses them before letting out a soft, low breath. Pat kisses Nick, close-mouthed, until Nick starts to push back.

“There you go,” Pat says. “Slow and steady.”

“I don’t _want_ slow and steady,” Nick says, taking Pat by the hips and dragging him forward. Pat leverages himself on the headboard, peers down at Nick. Nick and his bright, tempting eyes. Pat kisses him again, harder this time, more tongue and nipping teeth. Nick’s reacting fast, exerting force as if to let Pat know they want the same thing.

Pat draws back. “Roll over,” he says.

“Shit,” Nick says, and Pat crawls back, starts to undo his belt. Nick stares for a split second and then complies, lying flat on his stomach against the sheets. “Lube’s in the - it’s in the drawer, God,” he says, cheek pressed to the pillow.

Pat considers his every movement. He’s already thinking ahead, what he wants to do, how he wants to do it, and his heart is thudding, his gut twisting. He can make out the lines on Nick’s thighs with the way he’s stretched out. Pat pushes his jeans off, shoves his underwear down and tosses them on the floor. Nick’s still lying flat, mostly unmoving besides his fingers, clenching and unclenching on the pillowcase.

“Nick,” Pat says, unbuttoning his linen shirt. He pushes it off his shoulders, leaves it on the end of the bed, and presses a palm against the small of Nick’s back. Nick jerks, but doesn’t say anything.

Pat strokes his thumb over Nick’s skin. “Nick,” he says again, a little softer. The light in Nick’s room is weird; a little too yellow, a little too harsh on his skin. Pat kisses one of the freckles on Nick’s shoulder, hunches over so his chest is pressed to Nick’s back, his cock hard on the swell of Nick’s ass.

Nick makes a small noise and then bites down on the pillow.

“Hey,” Pat says, rocking his hips just enough for the tiniest bit of friction. Nick tenses, pushes his face into the pillow, and the next sound he makes comes out muffled. “Hey, don’t do that.”

Nick turns his face again, sniffs. “Why not? You’re ruining my life.”

Pat laughs and sits up. He takes the lube from the drawer, slicks up his hand, presses between Nick’s thighs. Nick gasps as the first finger slides in. It’s an easy enough start, and Pat goes slow, rolling his wrist to fuck Nick open a little more with every downward stroke. Nick’s voice still comes out a little strangled, too tight, but Pat doesn’t let it distract him. He lubes up again, presses a second finger through Nick’s tight muscles. Nick’s starting to push back, sit up a little with his elbows, and Pat smiles, dropping the lube to stroke Nick’s hip.

Pat’s mostly quiet, can’t quite bring himself to say something. Maybe he’s nervous of getting Nick too worked up or freaked out, but mostly he just wants to hear Nick’s voice, see what he can pull from him.

He’s at three fingers when Nick starts babbling. “Okay, okay, just - just fuck me already, I can’t stand this, I need you,” he says, and Pat thrusts his fingers deep one last time, Nick’s body jerking forward.

“God, Pat,” Nick grits out through his teeth. He chokes as Pat withdraws his hand. Pat wipes his fingers off on Nick’s sheets and picks up the lube again, this time rubbing it between both palms before he wraps a hand around his dick. He coats his cock liberally until he’s confident, shifts a little closer so he can position his hips between Nick’s.

“Are you ready?”

“Fucking - _yes_ , I already told you, I’m - fuck.” Nick lets out a ragged little noise, torn from his throat, as the head of Pat’s cock slides into his hole. He’s still slick from lube and the friction is just the right combination of ease and resistance, Nick still tight around Pat’s cock, enveloping him in heat without suffocating him.

“Nick,” Pat breathes, sinking in slowly.

“Come on,” Nick gasps. “Faster. Harder. Do something.”

Pat laughs, his voice a little broken too, and drags Nick closer by his hips. It makes his thrusts easier, and he bottoms out after a few rocks of his hips. 

“Nick,” he says again, seeing Nick biting his fist. “Stop that.”

Nick groans. “I don’t - I can’t,” is all he says. Pat keeps Nick upright with his left hand, fists Nick’s cock with his right. He gives Nick a single stroke and Nick starts to pant, digging his teeth into his knuckles.

“I wanna hear you,” Pat says, and Nick makes another muffled sound, pressing his face back into the pillow. Pat drags his nails down Nick’s spine, fucks into him a little harder.

The sound Nick makes is louder, fuller, closer to what Pat is going for. Pat groans, pulls back to fuck Nick a little more rapidly. All it takes is the scrape of his nails along Nick’s spine for Nick to lose whatever sense of self-control he had been holding onto.

Pat pulls Nick’s cock, jerks him hard and fast until Nick’s just a mess - sweat, moans, marks on his back. Pat has a few seconds where his mind goes almost completely blank, the only thought a harsh buzz of Nick’s voice.

“God, Pat, don’t stop,” drives Pat onward.

“Nick, I’m gonna…” Pat trails off, clenching his teeth together. He’s fucking Nick as hard as he can, each drag of his hips so fucking good on his cock. He finds just enough awareness to scratch Nick’s back one last time, from his shoulders down to his ass, and Nick actually shouts this time, a hard, solid sound straight from his chest.

Pat comes with a groan, wraps his fist around Nick’s cock as he shudders through it. He jerks Nick hard, uneven as the aftershocks twitch through his muscles. Nick’s gasping into the pillow, shaking, and Pat lets go just to pull out and roll Nick onto his back.

“Pat,” Nick says, arcing his body towards Pat. “Please, please, please.”

Nick mutters other nonsense, keeps begging for Pat to touch him, and Pat can’t resist, wouldn’t want to anyhow. He wraps both hands around Nick’s cock, hard and leaking by now, and starts to stroke him again, starts slow and speeds up as Nick’s voice gets louder, more desperate. Pat stares at Nick, his twitching thighs, his arched neck, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. Pat finds he’s desperate to see Nick come, and he spurs Nick on with his own nonsense.

“You know how good you look under me? How much I love hearing you come apart?” Pat’s voice is shaking but he tries not to let it stop him. “I wanna see you come, wanna feel it in my hand. Can you do that for me, Nick? Come all over yourself while I tell you how much I love hearing you moan?”

Nick whimpers and then lets out a low, long whine, his body freezing and tensing. It’s sort of beautiful, Pat thinks, watching Nick’s cock fidget in his hands, come shooting from the tip and streaking on Nick’s belly, into Pat’s palm.

Pat laughs - maybe it’s just relief, maybe it’s something else, but he collapses on top of Nick and laughs, tangling their legs together.

“Pat,” Nick breathes. “Pat, what are you _doing_ ,” Nick says, and then he laughs too, wrapping his arms around Pat.

“That was a lot,” Pat says, moving his weight so he isn’t crushing Nick so much. “God, this is gross. It’s gross, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “But, that’s okay. Stay here. Just for another moment.”

Pat breathes a sigh against Nick’s ear. “Okay,” he whispers, and this time he doesn’t move.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @[kevinspaceyvoice](http://kevinspaceyvoice.tumblr.com), me + notinthisarmy write little fics there and rb shit


End file.
